The Unwritten Birthday Card
by kami's butterfly
Summary: It's Harry's birthday and he's got everything he wants except one thing. But does he really want to go back down that path? Does he really want it? And what does Draco think about this? HP/DM Slash. If you don't like it, please don't read it.
1. Where's that card?

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter or any of the other characters associated with the franchise. **I only borrow them!

Author's Note: This is the beginning of a story that I came up with while on my way to school one day. I haven't written in so long so I apologize now for my writing being a little rust. Please bear with me as my writing becomes more fluid. I promise to write this story as frequently as possible and keep updating. I hope you like it!

The Unwritten Birthday Card

Ch. 1

He put his quill down and stared at the blank sheet of parchment in front of him. What could he say that he hadn't said before? What could he write that didn't sound hollow, fake or cliché? It had been three years, three long years. The man sighed and, placing his hands flat against the parchment, closed his eyes against his final decision. There was nothing to write. There was nothing left to say. It was time he let go.

It was early. Too early. Squinting at the blurry clock (which was currently reading 6:21 AM), Harry pushed himself up to a sitting position and groped around for his glasses. Now that he was awake a surge of anticipation went through him, just like it had ever since his 11th birthday, ever since he had real friends.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, he headed across his apartment to the small kitchen in the corner where he started brewing his coffee with a flick of his wand. He didn't even look over at the counter to make sure he hadn't accidentally started the stovetop instead of the coffee maker as he was much more intent on the flock of owls sitting the railing outside on his balcony overlooking a large park. Opening the sliding glass door, the owls swooped in, all jostling for him to untie their letter first.

There were the usual owls; a large barn owl delivered his _Daily Prophet_, a smaller screech owl had his _Quibbler_ in its beak, Pidwegeon had a letter from Hermione and Ron, Ginny had sent her birthday card with a new owl that Harry didn't recognize and there were three more owls from the Weasleys (one from George, one from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and even one from Charlie). As Harry unloaded each of the owls in turn they immediately flew off. Finally, after a few letters from fans wishing him a "Happy Birthday!", and a few from old Hogwarts friends, including some of his old professors, there was just one more owl perched serenely on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. It stared at him for a long moment before sticking out its leg and Harry had to admit to himself that his heart was beating a bit faster . This was the letter he had really been looking for.

After he untied the note, the owl didn't move, it simply stared at him and waited patiently. Turning away from the owl, Harry tore open the seal and scanned the letter. His heart sank. It wasn't from who he'd thought it would be from. It was from his coworkers in the Aurors office, not wishing him a happy birthday but requesting that he send in some paperwork that he still had sitting on his desk at home. Nodding at the owl, he quickly went and gathered up the papers, sealed them and sent them back with the owl.

Now that his coffee was ready, he went over, poured himself a cup, took a sip and started perusing his birthday cards. As usual, they were all really sweet, all promising to come to his birthday party the Weasleys were throwing him at the Burrow but he couldn't keep the nagging little voice in the back of his head quiet.

Why hadn't he sent Harry a birthday card? He always sent him one. In fact, he always sent him a card for every holiday. Had he forgotten his birthday?

A louder voice inside his head laughed. Forget his birthday? That was impossible. He probably decided to move on. Yeah, that's it.

The smaller voice didn't like the sound of that at all and a cold chill spread through Harry as he sat there, staring out at the sky wishing a owl-shaped speck would appear on the horizon. He never missed Harry's birthday. What if, what if something had happened to him?

An irrational fear washed over Harry as he stood up and walked over to his fireplace, determination searing through his muscles. He needed to find out. Taking a pinch of Floo powder, he stuck his face into the green flames and shouted his desired destination.

A/N: So, what do you think of the first chapter? I'm setting things up here so that the rest of the story can move more quickly, I'm hoping this will only be a few chapters long. Read and review please! I love constructive criticism as well as compliments!


	2. Why wouldn't I be fine?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his friends in any way, shape or form. **

A/N: Well, here is chapter two! Yay! I hope you like it!

Ch. 2

"Draco! Draco!" Harry shouted once his head had come to a stop in the desired grate. The elegant living room was completely empty, not even a house elf could be seen. Harry's heart quickened. "DRACO MALFOY!"

Then he heard a commotion from somewhere to his left but he couldn't see what it was. A door slammed and then Harry heard his voice. "Bloody hell! It's 6 fucking forty-five in the bloody morning! What the fuck do you think you're doing? You had better have a bloody good reason for waking me up this early Finni-" Draco stopped mid-word and stood in front of his fireplace, mouth hanging open, clad in only a robe looking like he had just been Stunned. "Harry?" he breathed, disbelieving.

Harry suddenly felt incredibly foolish. Of course he was okay. _Shit_, he thought to himself, _why was I so stupid?_

"Harry," Draco said, still looking stunned and drawing his robe tighter around himself. Slowly he lowered himself until he was kneeling by the fireplace. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure you...you were...er...you were okay." Saying the words sounded even stupider. Merlin, he was an idiot! And, coupled with the ever-growing feeling of stupidity, Harry was also becoming increasingly embarrassed.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Draco was slowly recomposing himself even as he felt something in his chest start to tighten painfully.

"You...you- well, you- you didn't send me a birthday card. So, I thought, maybe, maybe you weren't okay, okay?" Embarrassment was giving way to anger. "Sorry that I woke you. See you around."

As he started to pull his head from his fire, Draco yelled, "No! Harry!"

His stomach tightened. "Yes?"

"Well, I-" Draco's voice tightened and he had to start over. "I'm sorry, for not sending the birthday card." He had to stop again to keep his voice from breaking. "Well," he forced a smile he didn't feel onto his face, "happy birthday!" The joy in his voice sounded fake, even to his ears and he winced.

"Er..." Harry started to pull his head back out of the fire. "Thanks."

"Are you doing something for your birthday?" It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and as soon as the question had been asked, Draco wished he hadn't said anything.

Harry looked at him for a long moment. Why did Draco care what he was doing for his birthday? "Not much," he finally said. "There's a party tonight at the Weasley's." Then, before he could rethink his decision, he quickly added, "You can come if you want."

Harry had said the last part so fast that Draco didn't catch it. "Sorry?"

His heart was beating as fast as it had when he'd asked Cho to the Yule Ball and had had to repeat himself. "You...you...er...you can...if you want...you can come. But if you don't, that's fine."

"Oh, well..." Draco looked around his room, looking anywhere so as to not have to look at Harry. "Oh, well..." He looked into those impossibly emerald eyes, surrounded by emerald flames, and said, "I don't know...I have work...but maybe..." Then, straightening up, he said straight forwardly, "I have to go. Happy birthday again. Goodbye."

Then, before Harry had pulled his head out of the fire, Draco turned around and walked away.

Harry rolled back onto his feet and pushed himself up only to flop onto the nearest chair. He had been so stupid! Why, _WHY_ had he called on Draco? Sure, they were supposed to be friends but could two people who barely corresponded, never acknowledged each other in the hallway except for the barest of head nods and briefest of glances possible really be called friends? And _why_ had he invited Draco to his birthday party? Did he really want Draco there in person? It was bad enough to see the man through his fireplace, looking absolutely stunning in just a robe, tousled bed hair playing around his eyes.

Harry shook his head so quickly he nearly gave himself a headache. He couldn't think of Draco like that anymore. He'd ended it three years ago. He couldn't still like the Prince of Slytherin. Could he?

Draco sank onto the edge of his bed, all traces of being tired completely gone. What had just happened? He had had no idea that Harry felt that the cards Draco had sent were so important. To be honest, he didn't know why he had kept sending Harry cards after the break. Maybe a small part of him had hoped Harry would take him back. But why would he? Draco had in no uncertain terms told Harry that they couldn't be together the way Harry wanted. Of course, it had been Harry who ended it.

Standing up and walking into the bathroom, Draco examined his reflection so as to not think about the past. What was in the past would have to stay there because Draco didn't have the desire to dredge up the painful memories of Harry's green eyes filled with tears, his face splotchy and red, angry nail marks in his palms from clenching his hands so hard...

_No, it's over._

But would he go to the party? He glared at his reflection as if daring it to challenge him. "I don't know," he told himself. "Why would I go to his party when we can't even be normal around each other? After everything that has happened, why doesn't he hate me? I hate myself for it. I was so stupid."

The back of his throat started to tighten and he looked away from his reflection. He turned to the shower and stepped into scalding water in an attempt to burn away the feelings and memories he didn't want to remember.

A/N: So...? What did you think? I hope you liked this chapter and how I'm setting everything up. They are so painfully awkward right now! Well, read and review please! I'll update again soon!


	3. Happy Birthday!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter...this has not changed from the previous two chapters...I promise!**

****A/N: So, here is chapter 3! Wahoo! It is a bit longer than the other two chapters so I hope you all will forgive me if I do not get to update for awhile. But I promise to keep writing as much as fast as I can! This story is actually a lot of fun to write so trust me when I say that I really want to write it!

Ch. 3

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" roared a chorus of people as Harry stepped through the Weasley's front door. The Burrow looked just as it always had with its furniture worn with age and use, knick knacks that gave the living room a slightly cluttered look, and a welcoming atmosphere that Harry had yet to feel anywhere else, except with maybe one exception.

He smiled around at all of his guests. Hagrid, taking up a large portion of the dining room, was currently trying to edge himself out onto the lawn where they were almost finished putting up the tents and tables so that everyone could enjoy the warm July evening with plenty of room to spread out. Hermione flew into Harry as soon as he had fully stepped through the door and he barely had time to shake Ron's hand before Ginny, George, Bill and Charlie edged in to talk to Harry about the latest going-ons at work and life in general.

Dean and Seamus were also there with some of the other Gryffindors, including his old Quidditch teammates Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Oliver Wood. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Slughorn were also there, talking with Mr. Weasley and it was only because Mrs. Weasley was so busy with the preparations outside that she had not come right over to greet Harry.

"Mrs. Weasley," he shouted over the rumble of multiple conversations, "please stop fussing. Everything is wonderful."

"Oh, Harry, dear, I still have to-!"

Harry stopped her before she could finish her sentence by drawing her into a huge hug. He loved Mrs. Weasley like she was his real mother and hugged her with that same intensity. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Everything is perfect."

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Oh, okay, if you insist. Well, go on outside you lot! Dinner is almost ready!"

After scanning the crowd once to make sure there wasn't a blond head bobbing around (except for Luna's, of course, right next to, Harry was happy to see, a very happy looking Neville), Harry felt a twinge of sadness before pushing it away. He hadn't really _expected_ to see Draco at his party...but maybe a small bit of him had hoped...

"Everything okay, mate?" Ron asked, following Harry's gaze around the house. "Who are you looking for?"

"Oh, no one."

Without looking Ron in the eye, Harry made to get out of the house. He couldn't tell Ron who he'd been looking for, who he wanted to show up, who he wanted- no...he didn't want _that_. He couldn't let him back into his life. But even so, if Ron found out what he thinking, what he'd done this morning, both Ron and Hermione would have a cow. They were the only ones who knew, the only ones Harry had confided in, and part of the reason-no, that wasn't true either. He couldn't blame them. That was Draco's fault and Harry was being stupid wanting that again. So stupid.

"Harry!" Ginny yelled over everyone. "Harry, come see your cake!"

He pushed Draco to the back of his mind with as much force as he could and smiled at Ginny. At first, the smile felt a bit out of place, stretching his face like an uncomfortable mask but as the night wore on and he ate more and more of Mrs. Weasley's delicious food and then had a huge piece of cake on top of that the smile felt more natural, more his own and he felt truly happy. Until...

"Who's that?"

Everyone's heads turned at Bill's question, following his pointing finger to the Burrow's garden gate where a lone person was standing, waiting. Harry, who had been in a friendly debate with Ginny about the best Quidditch team this year, hadn't heard Bill, and kept talking. But, as the table fell quiet, he looked up.

Draco looked up at the crowd clustered around a long table and seriously considered turning around and Disapparating before anyone could see him. His stomach, currently playing host to about a thousand pterodactyls, was threatening to send his dinner back up and his palms were sweating so badly his cloak was starting to feel a bit damp where he kept wiping them. He was nervous, not that he would ever admit that out loud, mind you.

He had fought with himself all day while at work, gone back and forth about whether or not to go. Decided against going only to decide to go a minute later. Then, after accidentally setting fire to his lunch, he threw all caution to the wind and decided to go. After all, it had been three years. He couldn't still have feelings for Harry, could he? And if he did, maybe seeing him, seeing how he's moved on, would help him move on too. Right?

Of course, now that he was standing at the Weasley's crumbling gate, seeing Harry surrounded by all of his friends and family, Draco didn't want to interrupt. He had been just about to turn around when he heard someone say, "Who's that?"

He froze. They had seen him. Now there was no way for Draco to get away without being awkward and seemingly like a coward. Draco was content to let people think a lot of things about him but thinking him a coward was not acceptable. Gathering as much confidence as he could muster with sweaty palms and a racing heart, he waited at the gate, silently looking up at the party.

"I'll go open the gate," he heard Granger say and watched her dislodge herself from her seat at the table.

Draco felt his trademark smirk stretch across his lips and he felt a little better to be hiding behind that mask.

"Malfoy?" Granger asked as she reached the gate. "Why are you here?"

"Harry invited me."

"He did?" she questioned, suspiciously. "Why?"

"You would have to ask him. Now, are you going to invite me in? It's rude to leave a guest standing outside for too long."

Still watching him warily, Hermione opened the gate for Draco, standing aside so he could pass through. "You're late."

"Yes, Granger, I'm aware. I had work to do and as Harry only invited me this morning, I didn't have time to reschedule my very important meetings for his little birthday party. I will personally apologize to the Golden Boy when I have the chance, " he sneered and felt slightly better because his voice sounded quite normal.

They were halfway up the hill and even though Draco was intensely aware of Harry's gaze on him, he felt more confident than he had felt all day. Then, Granger stopped him, stepping in front of him and turning her back on the party. "If you hurt him again," she hissed, threateningly. "I will personally make sure you can't hurt anyone ever again."

"Granger, I would not be here if Harry had not invited me. I have no hidden agenda. Now, please, you're making quite a scene."

With a last sneer, albeit a bit forced because his newfound confidence was starting to falter under so many people staring at him, he stepped around her and approached the table at last.

The whole time Draco and Hermione walked up the hill an internal war was raging inside of Harry and neither side had won out when Draco finally reached the table. Should he stand up and greet Draco? Should he make eye contact? Why had he come? Why had Harry invited him? What should he do?

Finally, with a small sigh of resolution, Harry stood up and looked Draco in the eye. "Hi, Draco. Thanks for coming." Then, he stepped out from in front of his seat and pulled out another seat down the table a few plates away. "Here, have a seat and grab some food. Mrs. Weasley's cooking is phenomenal."

While he was determinedly maintaining eye contact and a friendly mask, inside he was freaking out, he completely missed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanging a look with each other and then turning to Ron and Hermione for a silent answer. Hermione shrugged and mouthed, _Harry invited him._ Ron merely shook his head, completely bewildered.

"Mr. Malfoy-"

Draco started, looking at Mrs. Weasley for a minute before saying," Draco, please, if you don't mind."

"Oh, okay..." Mrs. Weasley replied slowly, "well, Draco, what have you been doing since you graduated from Hogwarts?"

Harry moved back to his seat, careful not to catch Hermione's stare but it was impossible to avoid Ron as he was sitting on his other side. As soon as he'd sat down, Ron leaned over. "Is there something you want to tell me?" he hissed.

"Not here."

"Fine, let's go into the kitchen and go grab some more food for our new guest." Standing up, Ron interrupted Draco's reply to Mrs. Weasley by saying, "Mum, we're going to go grab some more food for Draco. C'mon Harry."

Draco's discomfort level went up a few notches as he saw Harry get up to leave with Ron but he tried not to let it show. Taking a bit of the food that was already on the table, he smiled at Mrs. Weasley. "Your cooking really is good. I'm sorry to have arrived without any notice."

Mrs. Weasley was pretty sure that if she hadn't been watching Draco's mouth moving, she wouldn't have believed that he really had said that. "It's no trouble," Mr. Weasley answered since his wife was still a bit stunned by Draco's politeness.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude," Ginny started, leaning forward and glaring at Draco with open dislike, "but since when have you and Harry been friends?"

Draco appraised her for a moment. He knew that she knew what had happened three years ago. She, after all, was one of the reason's Harry and Draco split. But how much did she know? That was the real question. "Well, we do both work at the Ministry and we do run into each other from time to time. It's easier if we can at least be civil."

"Yes, but since when does 'civil' mean that you get to be invited to birthday parties and stuff?" George countered.

"George, let's not be rude," Mr. Weasley warned but Draco noticed that he also seemed to be awaiting an answer to the question.

"I think if you want that answer," Draco answered coolly, "you should asked Harry as he is the one who invited me this morning. But, I realize that I've made you all uncomfortable so I will go. Thank you for the food."

"You've hardly had three bites! Please sit and eat. I apologize for my children's behavior," Mrs. Weasley blurted out. "Oh, look! Harry and Ron have come back with some more food!"

Thankfully, Ron waited until they were safely behind closed doors to round on Harry. "You're crazy, you know that? What are you playing at? You can't possibly be thinking that you _want_ to get back together with him! After everything that happened?"

"Ron, please," Harry stated, fatigue ringing through his voice. "Please, stop. I don't know what I was thinking. I was talking to him this morning-"

"WHY?" Ron exploded.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. He couldn't tell Ron that he had been so stupid this morning, he was embarrassed enough as it was. "Just because I was. Anyway, I invited him. So what? No big deal. Why can't I invite him over? We are supposed to friends after all. Or, at least co-workers..."

"Harry, I saw the way you looked when he showed up. I saw the hope, the anxiety. You're not over him so you need to stay away from him. Now, go out there and tell him to leave. That you didn't really mean for him to come."

Harry looked at Ron with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "No," he stated firmly. "That's rude. He can stay, I'm glad he came." Then, before Ron could argue, Harry grabbed some of the leftovers and went back outside.

He noticed how quiet it was as Mrs. Weasley announced their arrival a bit more enthusiastically than would have been normal. And as he put the food down, he even managed a smile but the smell of Draco's cologne made the corners of his smile falter as he reacted to it in ways he shouldn't have been.

"Thank you, Harry," Draco said with a small smile and started eating while conversations started to slowly start back up again.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry sat back down and started talking to Ginny again who seemed determined to keep his attention on her. This was definitely one of his more interesting birthdays.

As the birthday party wound down, which coincided with about the time that people might think that it wasn't obvious they were leaving because of Draco, Harry had just about started to feel a bit better about the newest arrival and his stomach had stopped revolting. One by one they all started to leave after watching Harry open his gifts. Then, when it was just the Weasleys and Draco, even Hagrid had gone home, Draco gave Harry his gift.

"You didn't give me a lot of time to find you something, so I hope this will do." For a moment, it looked like Draco was going to open his arms for a hug. For a moment Harry leaned the tiniest bit forward. For an instant, Draco hesitated. In an instant Harry pulled back. Then, suddenly, Draco thrust out his hand and Harry, faltering for only a second, took his hand and shook it. "Happy birthday, Harry," Draco murmured and then, breaking eye contact and releasing his hand turned away.

"What did he get you?" Ginny asked curiously as Draco walked away.

But Harry didn't answer her. He couldn't. Tears were stinging the corners of his eyes and his throat had closed up. He thought he'd gotten over it, he'd thought his world was mended but it was all he could do to keep it from completely collapsing around him as he hurriedly said goodbye to the Weasleys and Hermione and escaped to the solitude of his apartment.

Then, in the dark living room, he sat on the floor and cried, clutching Draco's small gift in his hand.

A/N: So, what did you think? Like it? R&R please!


	4. How important is the passing of time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else related to him!**

**A/N: So here is the next installment in what I had once thought would be a shorter story! I know it's a bit on the short side but hopefully it will start giving clues as to what may or may not have happened three years ago. Happy reading!**

Ch. 4

Draco pounded the door with his fist, closing his eyes to the Manor he now called his own. He had been so stupid. Why, _why_, had he thought it would be a good idea to go to Harry's birthday party? Why had he thought he could get over him? Three years had not been long enough. And then, he tried to break contact, only to have Harry call him, worried for him. What did that mean? Did Harry still have feelings for him? But how could he?

Draco opened his eyes but he didn't see the foyer. Instead, he saw Harry's face, felt his green eyes piercing him, watching him as he sat at the table. And, as if his brain was trying to dig the knife even deeper, he remembered the smell of Harry's cologne as he leaned over beside him. The same cologne he'd worn three years ago.

Then, before he could stop it, he remembered that first night, three years ago.

He opened the door, hoping despite himself that what had just happened had never happened, that Harry would be somewhere in the house, doing something, waiting for Draco to come home so they could have dinner together. He even permitted himself to walk through the house once before resolving to move on and not dwell on what had happened and what could not be changed. Even so, when he went to bed that night, he couldn't help but sleep on the wrong side of the bed, his nose buried in a pillow he never used, smelling a cologne he never used.

"Damn it," he muttered as he moved into the house and began divesting himself of his things. "I can't keep this up. Something has to change." But what would that be?

His breathing was still a bit ragged from crying but as Harry regained his composure, he turned his attention to the box clutched in his hand. Most of his other gifts had been placed in a bag he'd also somehow managed to grab before his hurried departure but he hadn't let go of Draco's gift. With slightly trembling fingers, he fumbled with the wrapping for a minute before managing to rip off the paper. Inside was a simple box with a piece of paper folded inside. In his neat, careful and precise handwriting, Draco had written:

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday. I'm sorry that I didn't write this sooner, I didn't know what to write that wouldn't sound cliché or empty. To be honest, I don't know what to write anymore. I don't know you anymore since we haven't talked in three years except for these cards. I honestly don't see the point in continuing to pretend to be friends if we can't even have a conversation. I'm sorry this isn't the birthday card you wanted but it's all I have to give at this point._

_Draco_

Underneath the paper was a handsome watch with beautiful, silver arching hands that ticked around an equally graceful clock face. The sturdy dragon hide band fit nicely around Harry's wrist and as he went to clasp it, he noticed something etched onto the side of the face.

_How important is the passage of time_

There was no punctuation which confused Harry as to the meaning of the phrase. Was it a question or a statement? He couldn't be sure. But, pushing the question out of his mind, Harry took the watch back off, left the rest of his presents on the kitchen table, to be dealt with in the morning, and started to get ready for bed.

He didn't get very far, though, before there was a knock on his door.

"Hermione?" he asked as he opened the door, slightly bewildered but mostly apprehensive.

"We need to talk," she answered brusquely.

"About?"

"About Draco."

"What about Draco?"

Hermione, looking a bit tired but determined, fixed Harry with a penetrating stare. "Don't get smart with me, Harry. What are you doing? Why did you invite Draco to your party tonight? And why didn't you tell anyone?"

Harry felt his cheeks redden but instead of letting himself feel embarrassed, he fed the embarrassment to his anger and fueled that instead. "I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to invite people to start ragging on me if he didn't show up! And since when do I have to answer to you what I decide to do? As far as I know, it was a party for me since it was _my_ birthday. So I should be allowed to invite who I want."

"Yes," Hermione conceded, backing down a bit. "But, Harry, we don't want you to get hurt again by him. He left you in pieces, pieces that took us the better part of a year to put back together. I don't want you to fall apart again."

"I can take care of myself."

"Harry, that's not what I meant. I'm your friend. It's my job to look out for you and I'm telling you, you need to move on. I know you've been dating other people, surely you feel something for one of them?"

Harry didn't meet her eyes, instead busying himself with pulling out his gifts."Yeah," he mumbled noncommittally.

"And?"

"And what? Every time I look at them, I see him. Every time they do something, I think, 'Draco wouldn't do that' or 'Draco does that the same way'. "

Hermione looked positively alarmed. "Then why did you invite him today? Harry, you need to stay away from him until you don't have feelings for him. Forget he exists. I know that's what he's done to you. I mean, look at him, he's with a new guy every other week. He's moved on. So should you."

"I'm tired." That was all he could manage to get out.

"Okay, well, just remember what I said. I'll see you tomorrow."

With a quick hug, Hermione let herself out of the house and disappeared into the night. Harry didn't know what to think. He was too tired to sort through everything that had happened. Tomorrow, he decided, he would deal with everything tomorrow.

**A/N: So, what did you think? Please R&R! I'll try to get another chapter up soon!**


	5. I know

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Wish I did though! lol!**

**A/N: Sorry about not posting in a loooooong time. Life has been so hectic. But hopefully I will get the last few chapters written and uploaded quickly. Thanks for sticking with me!**

****Ch. 5

Two weeks had passed since his birthday party and Harry had seen not hide nor hair of Draco. Normally, they would pass each other occasionally while at the Ministry, Harry on his way to the Auror's office, Draco on his way to do some international negotiation or something of the sort. On days when Harry's luck was incredibly bad they would even get trapped in the same elevator and have to endure one of the most awkward silences only elevators can produce.

But lately, even though Harry followed every blond head that passed him, none belonged to the person he wanted. And every time he reacted he mentally chastised himself. He did and he didn't want to run into Draco. His brain said no but the catch in his breath, tightness in the pit of his stomach and the flutter of his heart said different.

That particular night, though, Harry had not time nor the energy to spare for Draco as he ploughed his way through a huge mountain of paperwork. Despite the fall of Voldemort, Harry and his coworkers were kept busy trying to thwart other wannabe Dark wizards and the past week had been so busy that Harry was contemplating staying overnight in the office to get all the work done.

As he flipped through another few pages of a report, looking for some information, his stomach growled loudly. "Hush," he muttered to it. "After this report we'll get some food. I just need to get through this one." He glanced at the clock and his stomach growled louder. "It's only 6 o'clock, just wait another hour."

Trying to ignore his grumbling stomach, Harry plunged back into the report and was so engrossed in it that he didn't hear the knock on his door. A second, louder knock broke his concentration and he looked up and stopped breathing.

"Can I come in?"

Scrambling to make a clear space on his desk, Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. Once he had straightened papers for a good minute longer than was needed, Harry looked up and fixed Draco with a questioning look.

"I-I heard that you would be staying late and I-well, I ordered too much food for dinner so I-I figured that-er, well, I remembered you liked this place...and I don't want the food to go to waste-well, do you want some?"

Harry watched Draco stumble over his words, watched him bite his lip, twist the handles of the bag, and squirm in his chair without saying a word. Then, unable to stand the uncomfortable silence any longer, blurted out a short, "Thanks," and quickly opened the to-go container of vegetable pasta, happy to be able to look at that for a while.

Silence again fell as they both ate at Harry's desk, neither daring to say anything but wishing the other would. Harry noticed as he ripped off the lid to another dish that it was untouched. Chancing a glance at Draco, Harry thought about asking him about it, opened his mouth, and then closed it again over a forkful of food, deciding against it.

Draco played with his food more than ate it but he knew that Harry didn't notice, clearly too hungry to notice much more than the food in front of him. Twisting a few noodles around his fork, Draco contemplated eating them before his stomach clenched painfully. No, he couldn't do it. He was too upset. Spurred on by his nervous queasiness, Draco put his fork down and, while studying his food intently, he said, "Harry, I'm sorry."

He could feel Harry's green eyes snap to him. "What for?" he asked, his mouth still clearly full of food.

The words came rushing out all at once. "For what happened. For everything. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Although he was fairly certain he had swallowed, Harry felt as if his throat was clogged. Pushing down unwanted memories and their all too familiar pain, he stared at Draco's downcast face. "I don't want to talk about it," he stated, finally.

At that, Draco looked back at Harry, surprised. "We should talk about it."

"No."

Despite being ravenous only moments earlier, Harry was no longer hungry. In fact, he felt sick to his stomach. Pushing his food away, he stood up. "I forgot something downstairs, I have to go."

Without a word, Draco stood and exited the room. He left quickly, but he wasn't fast enough to hide the pain from Harry's dismissal on his face. But, after a moment, Draco composed himself as best he could and turned around to face the brunet. "I'm still sorry. I was stupid and I realize that now. I wish I had known it then. I just wanted you to know."

It was barely audible but as Draco rounded the corner, he heard Harry's whispered reply.

"I know."

**A/N: So, what did you think? Please R&R!**


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